


Lace Me Up Tight

by castielsstarr



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam, Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Emotional Comfort, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Dean, corset sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 10:52:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5866567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielsstarr/pseuds/castielsstarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam finds comfort in being laced into a corset, but he also finds comfort in letting Dean fuck him while laced into the corset.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lace Me Up Tight

**Author's Note:**

> This was written because I got 100 followers to my sideblog! Idea was inspired by my darling [thedropoutandthejunkie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/elenajames/profile) who said "But what about Sam in a corset?" Enjoy!
> 
> Come hang out with me on Tumblr, I promise I don't bite:  
> SPN NSFW Multi-ship sideblog: [wingedwincest.tumblr.com](http://www.wingedwincest.tumblr.com)  
> Main blog: [castielsstarr.tumblr.com](http://www.castielsstarr.tumblr.com)

Deft fingers slid each metal hook into place, one after the other, all the way up the front of his stomach to the underside of his pectorals. That was the easy part, unfortunately, but even just having the busk clipped closed helped. It soothed him in a way Sam couldn’t fully explain, even to himself. He’d tried.

In the mirror he quickly adjusted the position of the material encircling his waist. Two nudges down, settling it just the slightest bit lower at the tops of his hips. Sam then reached behind him and took the laces, one in each hand, and began pulling it closed as best he could. He started at the bottom, tugging at each cross of strings that he could feel. His head was tucked toward his chest, eyes closed as his fingers pulled at the laces, working the tension slowly upward to the middle.

Sam transferred both laces over to one hand, hooking them over his thumb, keeping the pressure tight. The top crosses were worked down to the middle as well as he could manage, and he tied it off, the tension holding his waist tight. The corset pinched incorrectly and he tried to shift it again to get it in the right place. It wasn’t quite right, no matter what. The lacing wasn’t exact, the pressure uneven. Sam frowned.

Still, it was better than not wearing it. If he went long enough without putting it on, even just for a little while, he started to feel insecure. But this, the time he had just to himself, was worth everything, including hiding it from Dean. His brother loved him and all of his idiosyncrasies, but this wasn’t something that he was likely to understand.

His hands traced repeatedly up and down the fabric, feeling where the steel boning sat in regular intervals around his torso. The material of the panels alternated—some were a slick black, almost silk-like, while the others held a floral design. Swirling, silver, velvet flowers on a black field. The softness under Sam’s fingers was incredible, and he could start to feel himself harden in his boxers. 

Even with that growing length, he didn’t desire to take care of it—not yet. He just wanted to feel, to relax, to breathe. The cinching of his waist had a calming affect to Sam. It helped to slow his heart, which tended to kick up for no reason. It kept him clear-headed. It wasn’t about looking good, though that was a side effect of it. He just wanted it to keep him grounded.

“Sammy, you down here?”

His brother’s voice drifted down the hallway and Sam grabbed his t-shirt off the bed as quickly as he could. No, no, no, he wasn’t supposed to be home. The shirt was yanked over his head and barely settled into place when Dean came into the open doorway of their bedroom. 

Dean quickly eyed his brother up and down. He was standing straight, same as his dick which stood at attention. “I figured you would have been in the library working while I was gone, but, uh, I see you had other things in mind this morning.” He nodded at the tent in Sam’s boxers.

“N-no, I just woke up.”

“Aww, little Sammy and his morning wood.” Dean’s leering smile meant he was joking, but it just flustered Sam.

He covered himself with one large palm. “Knock it off, Dean.”

“I’m just kidding. Come here.” Dean crossed the room with his arms stretched, looking for a hug.

Shit, he was going to find out as soon as he touched him. “No, d-don’t.” It didn’t matter, though. Dean just kept coming at him until he had forced his arms around his brother’s torso.

He paused and pulled back, hands patting down Sam’s sides. “What is that?” Sam hung his head as Dean lifted the edge of his shirt. “A corset?”

Sam didn’t move, didn’t speak. He wasn’t sure what he would even be able to say to make this situation better. His brother was going to judge him for this, make fun of him. He could try and explain the ease it gave him, but he didn’t think Dean would get it.

Fingers worked the hem of the shirt up further and further until it was being tugged up his chest and over his head. He felt more exposed like this than when his older brother would lay him out and kiss up and down his body. “I’m sorry,” he whispered and turned to face away from Dean.

His brother ran his fingers over the laces on his back where they were a likely a little knotted. Sam’s shoulders tensed, but he still couldn’t move or speak. The pressure around his waist started to lessen as Dean untied the laces in the middle and started working it open. Tears sprang to Sam’s eyes, but they didn’t fall. He wanted the corset off Sam. Didn’t like what it implied.

So, when the laces started tightening again, Sam raised his head. The strings were pulling taught, cinching his waist again. This time it felt right—the right amount of pressure in the right places. Dean did the top-down set and tied it off in the middle again. Then he ran his hands down Sam’s sides. “There. That better?”

Sam nodded quickly. “Yeah, I just… how?”

“You know I was with a few girls before we got together. This one is nicer than anything they ever wore for me, though. Where did you even get this?”

“I had it special made for me.”

“It’s beautiful.”

Sam couldn’t help the small smile. “Do you really think so?”

“Of course, Sam. I just… don’t know why you didn’t tell me. I thought you should have known by now that you could talk to me about things like this.” 

Sam sighed. “It just makes me feel safe, maybe.”

Dean’s hands were traveling down over Sam’s hips to his thighs. “I understand. We all have our things and this one is yours.” Sam whined just a little and the older Winchester shifted his hand around to the front of Sam’s boxers. He could feel that thick hardness and a small wet spot where his precome had leaked through the thin material.

“I… I don’t…” Sam couldn’t focus with the heat of his brother’s palm rubbing softly up and down the length of his cock.

“I’ll stop if you want me to. I know this isn’t a sex thing for you. But, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t so turned on by the way you look right now.”

Sam shivered at the way Dean’s voice pitched low, a soft rumble in his throat as he kissed Sam’s shoulder. “Don’t.” He took a moment to swallow. “Don’t stop.”

Dean chuckled against Sam’s shoulder before placing one more kiss to the skin. “Shift over to the bed, baby boy. Stand by the edge.”

Dean hadn’t called him that in a while and it made goosebumps run along his arms. He nodded, though, and complied, moving until he stood at the edge of their bed. The weight of his brother’s hands on his shoulders bent him over until his hands were planted on the mattress, his back a straight line, ass presented.

He worked Sam’s boxers down his hips and legs until they were puddled on the carpet. The way his cock and balls hung heavy between his legs was enough to make Dean’s mouth water. But right now he just wanted to be inside Sam, and the way the younger was canting his hips back against nothing was also a good indication that he needed it.

After a quick pat-down of his pockets, Dean found a small bottle of lube in the back pocket of his jeans. It was almost empty and he had stuck it in there as a reminder to fill it, but luckily there was just enough for this. He clicked the cap open and coated his fingers as quickly as he could before he started massaging it around Sam’s entrance.

Sam moaned at the spread of already pocket-warmed lube before biting down on his lip. “Sorry, it just feels so good.”

“Why are you apologizing? This is home, not a motel. You can be loud.” Dean worked one finger into Sam—all the way, until it was seated fully. Then he slowly withdrew it over the spot that he knew would make Sam writhe. He was right, of course.

Sam groaned as his hips twitched and his legs trembled. He spread his legs wider for Dean and went to his elbows on the mattress, lowering his torso. The sight of his back and hips that way had the older man’s cock releasing a bead of wetness where it was trapped in his boxers. “God, Sam. You look so stunning.”

The flush crept back over Sam’s shoulders, letting Dean know that he was blushing at the praise. The second finger then started working in beside the first and Sam pushed back to get Dean inside quicker. It hurt some, but the good kind that just made him wriggle and moan a little more.

“Fuck, Sammy, easy.” Dean pulled his fingers halfway out of Sam and steadied his with a hand on the swell of his ass. “I don’t want to hurt you. Thought we’d go slow.”

Sam quickly shook his head. “No, I don’t want slow right now. I need you inside me, fuck, please.”

Dean pushed his fingers back into Sam’s hole and twisted them, slightly spread, starting to really work him open. When he pulled back and the third finger was positioned to breach that ring of muscle, Sam took it upon himself to push back against Dean’s hand. The fingers slid into him and the stretch was so incredible that he whimpered, digging his hands into the sheets.

The whimper made Dean’s cock twitch hard and he let the hand the wasn’t occupied knead at the front of his jeans to relieve some of the pressure. It was essentially useless because the sight and feel of Sam fucking himself back and forth on his fingers was too much. “Oh, god. Keep going, baby boy.”

“Dean, I need you.” He was panting and Dean could see the sweat forming a thin sheen on his exposed skin.

“Patience, just another minute.” While holding his fingers still for the younger man, he was able to work open the front of his jeans one handed and pull his cock out through the slit in his boxers. They’d be covered in lube and come by the end of this, but he was planning on changing anyway. Sometimes it was fun to make a mess.

He slicked up his cock with what remained in the bottle of lube before tossing it empty onto the bed beside Sam. Dean placed a hand on one of Sam’s cheeks to keep him from pushing back again, and slid his fingers out with one flick to Sam’s prostate. The wait wasn’t long enough between when he pulled his fingers out and when he started to push his dick in for Sam to complain.

When the head popped passed Sam’s rim, they both shuddered. 

“Do you want me to—”

“No,” Sam interrupted.

Dean wasn’t about to question him and continued to push forward into the wet heat of Sam. He didn’t stop until Sam’s ass was pressed firmly to the zipper of his jeans, and it made the younger Winchester grind against him. Dean knew the jagged teeth were rubbing against Sam’s skin and the little bit of pain would make it better.

He didn’t wait long before retreating and pumping in again, building to a rhythm that would have Sam running off at the mouth. The boy used to have the filthiest mouth growing up, but he was more reserved now. Dean was always trying to break him of the habit.

With just a small shift of his hips, Dean’s cock was rubbing against that electric bundle of nerves inside of Sam on every few thrusts. 

The loudest moan yet came from Sam. “Fuck, right there, Dean. Need you to keep pounding into me just like this. You could make me come just from this, you kno—” The end of the word dissolved into a string of moans before he was able to catch his breath again.

“Christ, Sam, you feel so good. I don’t know how much longer I can—” Sam purposefully clenched around him and it was Dean’s turn to moan loud. “Don’t do that or you’re going to make me come.”

Sam was whining and thrusting back on every push forward into him. “Please, I need to feel it. Want you to come inside me. Fill me up so good.”

Dean’s left hand stayed on Sam’s hip, gripping tight, but the other moved to the back of the corset where his fingers threaded into the laces. He used it to leverage Sam back even harder on his dick and Sam cried out. He was beyond words at this point, just moans, whimpers and soft noises made low in his throat.

“You like this, sweetheart?” He kept talking without expecting an answer. “Gonna make you come so hard, I promise you. Big brother is always going to take care of you—whatever you need.” Dean was breathing hard from the exertion, but he knew they were both so close. He could wait no longer than a couple more minutes for the both of them to lose control or he could help them along.

The hand that was on Sam’s hip reached around to grab his dick and stroke him, stripping the length in time with his thrusts. Sam’s moans built from soft _ah ah ah_ ’s until he was crying loud and shaking apart with the force of his orgasm. 

The first jet of come splashed over Dean’s fist and the contraction of muscle inside Sam tipped him over the edge, too. His come was slicking Sam’s insides, making each thrust slide a little easier. He groaned low as he continued to fuck them both through their orgasms, his hand never leaving Sam’s cock. 

They both started to come down from the frenzied high, paces slowing, breathing hard. Dean’s hand was still working Sam’s cock, with slow, even strokes and Sam was trembling. Dean kept going, feeling Sam clench around his dick, which has stopped thrusting into him. He worked his brother down little by little until his hand slowed to a stop, holding the softening flesh.

“Are you ok?” Dean untangled his hand from the corset lacing and reached down to stroke Sam’s shoulder and hair.

Sam nodded and shifted his hips forward, letting his brother’s soft cock fall out of him. “God, yeah, I’m good.” He crawled hands and knees to the top of the bed where he flopped over onto his back and held his arm open for Dean to lay next to him.

Dean moved as quick as he was able to get on the bed, but he sat up for a moment. “Would it make you uncomfortable if I took this off of you? I just don’t think you should sleep in it.”

“That’s fine.” His hands reached for the hooks on the front, but Dean swatted his hands away.

“I want to do it. Please?”

Sam nodded and dropped his hands back to his sides, letting Dean work each clasp open one by one until the corset separated. He arched his back, allowing Dean to slip it out from underneath him before they settled down together, the corset lying next to the bed on Sam’s side. “Love you,” Sam whispered, eyes already closed and body relaxing into sleep.

Dean kissed his cheek once before muttering, “Next time I get to help you put it on from the beginning. Deal?”

Sam smiled. “Deal.”


End file.
